


world outside

by ronsparkyspeirs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Prostitution, Restraints, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/pseuds/ronsparkyspeirs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#31 prostitute/client au</p>
            </blockquote>





	world outside

**Author's Note:**

> how did i even write this.   
> and yes this a one shot, i have no intentions of turning it into something else.

The day had passed in a blur of note taking and boring lectures at school and Beth was eager to go home, but once she arrived back at her off campus apartment, anxiousness slowly crept within the crevices of her mind. Occupying the spaces she’d long forgotten, skin slick with sweat, a masculine groan, large calloused hands, the images were driving her crazy. Maybe it was time to get a lover, or in her case, purchase one.

 

She dug out the folded piece of paper Maggie had given her. Written on it were directions and ways to contact the bordello, she flushed with embarrassment of the thought of actually going to the place and making her pick. She imagined men in tiny rooms with a glass wall, all in provocative poses; made to entice lonely females. Red lights and cheap cologne is what she imagined, it seemed ridiculous but Maggie had assured her of the respectability of the establishment. A place right outside of Atlanta, an old plantation home turned into a clandestine cat house; Maggie had given her the phone number on a slip of paper after a night of drinking. Beth had gotten so drunk she started talking about how lonely she got sometimes, no boyfriend, no crush, she was a twenty two year old woman and she hadn’t had sex in two years. Maggie had nearly died from shock, “How is that even possible Bethy?” she’d asked and Beth had only shrugged, not comfortable with talking about the self imposed solitude she’d adopted after her mother died.

 

So Maggie had given her the number with specific instructions to call the place as soon as possible, “They deliver too!” she’d laughed, and so with a deep breath Beth began thinking about her preferences. She wanted something different, someone completely opposite of her. No blondes, and no farm-fed looking boys. Tall, dark, and handsome, Beth giggled, it was such an odd feeling to be requesting what you’d like in a lover, it felt like she was back in middle school, writing a list of all the things she liked in her crush. With a sense of abandonment she picked up her cell phone and made the phone call, tomorrow night at nine a man would be sent to her apartment.

 

Beth let out a sigh, she was really doing it. She was going to have a one night stand with a stranger. She felt her mouth go dry and her palms become sweaty, what if she didn’t find him attractive? Could she ask for a refund? Her mind raced through numerous scenarios, what if he didn’t like her? For once Beth wished she’d been blessed with Maggie’s sense of recklessness, this was supposed to be a brash, daring decision, she wasn’t meant to mull it over a hundred times, it simply had to happen. So she decided to simply go on with her usual routine: dinner, homework, some bad reality t.v., shower, brush teeth, and go to bed. By then end of the night she was quite proud of herself, she’d managed to do everything and not once did she have an anxiety attack.

 

The same could sadly not be said for the next day.

 

********************

The day was spent in what can only be described as a trance-like state. Beth went to school, she talked to her friends, she even managed to call Maggie and tell her about her date. Meanwhile Beth was going through a full-fledged range of emotions; anxiety, fear, and at one point she even felt a bit giddy. She could definitely not ignore the allure that a paid lover had, someone to fulfill your every fantasy and desire without repercussions. There was something oddly liberating about it, it made Beth feel young and free again; something she had not felt in a very long time, not since before her mother died.

 

She was still Beth, the same girl who grew up in her father’s farm; soft spoken and kind hearted. But sometimes she felt a desperate sense of remoteness, she could be an island unto herself and it could be hard to venture out and seek affection. Her daddy was always there, Maggies as well, and Jimmy had been her rock for a time but after her mother died she slipped into that seclusion which eventually led to her suicide attempt. Now she thinks how silly of her it was to think that killing herself would somehow solve all her problems, people said that suicide was the easy way out but it had been the hardest decision of Beth’s life. She’d been lucky that Maggie had found her, grateful that she could have a second chance.

 

That evening she rushed home, Friday evenings were usually a dull affair but this night would be different. Upon arriving she took a quick shower, and contemplated nearly ten minutes on appropriate clothing. She felt a dress would seem too formal, and she certainly couldn’t receive her guest in her donald duck pajamas; in the end she went for jeans, white chucks, and a simple t-shirt. The digital clock in her bedroom read 8:57 when she heard a knock at her front door.

 

Her palms were clammy by the time she reached the door, with a sharp intake of breath she opened the door and there stood the most agrarian looking man she’d ever seen.

 

It wasn’t his obvious handsomeness that attracted her though; it was the stark contrast between herself and him that made it hard to tear her eyes away from him. He was striking, in a sort of feral way. He had a crooked nose, thin lips, sharp cheekbones, and blue eyes that were nearly hidden by a shaggy mane of dark brown hair. He was older too, stubble on his face and bags beneath his eyes, it should have made him less attractive but it did the opposite; made him look experienced and a little bit dangerous.

 

There was an air of wildness about him, he looked like he could be the protagonist in a movie about bikers with his narrowed eyes and broad shoulders. Yet there he stood, giving her a sheepish smile and immediately Beth knew that this was his skill. He was tall and his arms were corded with muscle, thick and full of strength, he looked shy but Beth knew better, he looked like a little boy lost but he most certainly was not.

 

“Come in,” Beth said softly and gestured him inside. She inspected him further as he made his way inside; even his way of dressing went along with his charm. He wore a pair of jeans, a white cotton shirt and a leather vest with angel wings stitched on the back; well she was certainly getting something different than her usual brand of all american boy.

 

“How old are you?” she asked.

 

“Forty one.”

 

“Oh, okay” Beth nodded.

 

“That alright?” he asked, and Beth noticed how raspy his voice was, it made her warm between her thighs.

 

She looked at him and saw genuine concern, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

 

He was looking at her expectantly and Beth was completely lost as to what to do next. The awkwardness was beginning to become unbearable when he spoke up.

 

"You've never done this before," he said knowingly.

 

"That easy to tell?" she responded.

 

He shrugged, "Most women would have me on my knees and between their legs by now."

 

Beth blushed furiously, her face and chest felt hot with the mental image of this beautiful man on his knees before her. She was so lost in her own personal fantasy that she failed to notice him approaching her.

 

"Cute," he smirked, fingertips brushing over her reddened cheek.

 

Beth cleared her throat uncomfortably, “Would you like something to drink?”

 

He gave a brief nod and his hand dropped once again to his side. She went into her kitchen and poured whiskey into two glasses. When she returned to the living room his vest was off and he was seated on the sofa.

 

"What’s your name girl?" he asked gruffly.

 

"Beth Greene," she responded, sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

 

"Daryl," he said, gesturing to himself.

 

He moved close to her and hung an arm on the back of the couch, he smelled like irish spring soap and she could smell cigarette smoke on him.

 

“I haven’t paid you yet,” Beth spoke suddenly.

 

“Don’t worry about that now,” he said quietly, his fingers lightly combing through her long ponytail.

 

“I was wondering how much it would be for the entire night.” she said, nervously biting her lip.

 

“The entire night? you sure?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Three-hundred dollars,” he responded swiftly.

 

“Alright.”

 

He turned to face her and by then he was practically on her lap. She set her glass on the center table and noticed his was completely full.

 

“C’mere sweetheart,” he said as his hands went to either side of her face and Beth slightly pulled away from him.

 

“Too much?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, “No it’s just…”

 

“What, don’t like pet names?” he asked playfully, but it struck a chord in Beth, because no one had called her that in a long time and it only made her feel lonelier when he said it.

 

He seemed to notice her trepidation, and with a swift movement he had her on his lap, both her thighs straddling his own. His fingers dug through her ponytail until he reached the nape of her neck, his hands warm and calloused. He brought her closer to his face and she barely had time to close her eyes before his lips were already on hers, Beth raised her hands and ran her fingers through his dark hair. Daryl deepened the kiss, with his tongue finding the inside of her mouth and a wandering hand that went to her waist; she tasted cigarettes and something sweet in his mouth, the flavor furthering her sudden desire.

 

Unexpectedly Daryl pulled away, panting and flushed, “Bedroom, where’s your bedroom?”

 

“Oh it’s…” Beth untangled herself from him and stood from the couch; she took his hand and led him towards her bedroom.

 

The room was slightly dark, the only light coming in through the window from the lamps outside. Daryl backed her against the closed door, It was only then that she realized how much taller he was than her, his big body towered above her.

 

“How do you want me Greene?” he asked his voice barely above a whisper.

 

Beth raised her eyes to his in surprise, she hadn’t even thought about that. She had assumed he would be the one to take the lead and do whatever he wanted, “I’m- I’m not sure.”

 

Daryl gave her a tiny smile, “Must be something you can think of.”

 

His fingers trailed down to her breasts and he gave them a light squeeze, “I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

 

Her breath hitched as his hands crept under her shirt; his touch was cool and practiced. “I don’t know,” Beth responded honestly. She’d never been one to take matters into her own hands, at least not when it came to the bedroom. Even when she desperately wanted to let loose it always became difficult to actually do so, she’d never found anybody whom she could truly let go with.

 

“You can slap me around if that’s what you want,” Daryl said, slightly stepping away from her. His hands went to the hem of his shirt and in one smooth swoop it was up and over his head, leaving his chest bare, except for the tattoo that adorned his left pectoral. He had a slight tuft of hair on his chest and her eyes followed the trail down to the waistband of his jeans where it disappeared beneath his pants. His stomach was slightly rounded and soft looking and something about it appealed so much to Beth, he was all man and he was hers for the taking.

 

“Or I can crawl on my hands and knees if that’s what you want,” he spoke quietly in that gravelly tone of voice. He surged forward until his hipbones were pressed tightly against her, his arms shot out to either side of her and in a quick movement he had her wrapped around him, her legs around his waist and his hardening cock nestled in the apex of her thighs.

 

"What’s it gonna be Beth?" he said softly, grinding his hips down on hers. Beth gasped, he was hitting her center with each movement and she was unable to answer him.

 

"Come on Greene, tell me how you want it," Daryl insisted.

 

She let out a soft moan, "I want you to- to fuck me like you hate me," dear God, She couldn't believe those word came out of her mouth.

 

Daryl inhaled sharply, "Alright."

 

He turned around with her in his arms and slowly walked to her bed, where he gently placed her atop the crisp white sheets. Like a panther he crawled his way up her body, his fingers pulling on her shirt as he worked his way up. His mouth found her neck and he gave her a hard bite, soothing the red with his tongue.

 

“I won’t hold back,” Daryl warned, as he stood from the bed, leaving her cold and very much turned on. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, Greene,” he smiled, biting his lower lip, how he managed to look so innocent while spewing such profanity was beyond her.

 

“I’ma make it hurt, but I’ll make sure you like It,” he said, deftly unbuttoning his jeans. He must have noticed her tenure at the promise of pain for his next words were unexpectedly calming.

 

“Think up a safe word,” he told her, pulling his jeans down to his thighs, “something you won’t forget.”

 

Beth wracked her brain for a safe word; he was able to distract her far too easily. She’d noticed he wasn’t wearing any underwear and he stood at the base of her bed unashamedly. He raised his eyebrows in anticipation of her answer.

 

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she said suddenly.

 

Daryl flashed her an amused grin, “Good one.”

 

Abruptly his playful demeanor was gone and in its stead was something harder and colder, his blue eyes had lost their false innocence.

 

“Now sweetheart, I want you to stand up and take all your clothes off,” he ordered. Beth felt affronted but she remembered his earlier words; fantasy, game, desire, it wasn’t real. They were playing a game and he was in charge.

 

She stood and slipped off her jeans and shirt, her bra and underwear came off less easily but in the end her courage won out. Beth made a faint noise of surprise when Daryl took her hands and held them together gently, he turned her wrists over and saw the raised bump of flesh on her left wrist, he raised his eyes to hers and she looked away. She was always careful to keep her scar hidden but tonight had been about letting go so she forwent her usual stack of bracelets.

 

Daryl gave her wrists one soft squeeze and brought her left one up to his lips and placed a light kiss on her scar then he took her bra and began wrapping it around her wrists, a small, firm, knot was tied at the end.

 

“Bend over, elbows on the bed, palms faced down,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

 

“I--I don’t. I don‘t want to do this,” Beth said shakily, she realized just how tight he’d tied her. Panic rose through her making it hard to breathe, she tried to move her hands but found it difficult to do so, she couldn’t move. She was trapped.

 

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said sternly.

 

“Relax,” he cooed softly.

 

“Take them off!” she responded harshly, her anger only flared when he seemed to ignore her.

 

“Take them off!”

 

“Beth!” he snapped. Her eyes widened at his tone and she stopped her outburst for a second.

 

“It’s just a game remember?” Daryl said gently, his hand caressing her bare waist.

 

“I’ve never done this before,” she said apprehensively.

 

With a smile all the tension seemed to leave Daryl face and he was a shy little boy once again, Beth wondered how he could change so fast. “It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. I do anything you don’t like, just say the word and I stop,” he told her and she nodded her understanding.

 

“Good girl, now bend over,” he said firmly, motioning to the bed.

 

Once she was bent to his liking, his hand traveled up and down her back until finally stopping at the base of her spine. He gripped her hips and caressed her ass, she gasped in surprise when his fingers slipped down to her silky folds. He kept stroking, pinching the little bundle of nerve he found. Beth was quite mortified at her own abandon; at the way she completely let him have his way, but when he slid one long finger inside her she was lost.

 

“Daryl,” Beth whimpered, her hips thrusting back at his hand.

 

He pulled his fingers from her and gave her ass a sharp smack, making her cry out in shock. He smacked her once more, a bit harder that time and Beth let out a moan. He spanked her a few more times until she felt her ass getting hot and red, and even though it was slightly painful it only turned her on even more. He yanked on her hips till she was on her belly and swiftly turned her over.

 

He grabbed her hands and quickly untied the bra as he encased both her wrists in one large hand. He raised her arms high above her head and nestled in between her thighs, Beth could feel his length prodding at her entrance and only for a second did she feel fear at his looming form above her.

 

“Wanna be in you,” Daryl grunted as he thrust himself all the way inside her, Beth groaned at the sudden intrusion.

 

“Put your legs around my waist,” he ordered, she did and the motion only made his thrusts go in deeper, “good girl,” Daryl praised, his free hand groping a breast.

 

His thrusts became erratic and fast, he fucked her in wild abandon and just when Beth thought he was going to split her in half, he stopped and pulled himself out of her, “Bend over,” he motioned, “I’m fucking you from the back.”

 

“What?” Beth asked unsteadily, her eyes widened at the prospect of him doing that to her.

 

Daryl let out a laugh, “No, not like that, just meant y’know doggy-style.”

 

“Oh, ok,” Beth responded as she turned herself over, she was bent over for a few seconds before she turned slightly to see what kept Daryl from entering her.

 

“There’s nothing sexier than a girl on her hands and knees,” he smirked.

 

Beth blushed red; even if the flattery was untrue it still felt good to be wanted and thought of as beautiful. She turned around once again as he positioned himself against her backside but he clearly had other thoughts. She felt a hand wrap around her tousled ponytail and fist itself into the mass of hair, forcing her to turn and look at Daryl.

 

“I wanna watch you come,” he said fiercely, his blue eyes like molten lava, Beth felt her mouth go dry at his promise.

 

She gasped as he began entering her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Once he was to the hilt he began thrusting and pushing in earnest, so hard and fast Beth could hear the sound of his thighs and hips hitting her ass. She was grunting and moaning and shrieking at the way he managed to hit her sweet spot with each thrust, his hips rolled and shoved and she was completely lost to the intense feeling of pleasure. The sensation only deepened when she looked at him. The way his arms flexed with each gasping breath, making his muscles ever so prominent, at the way his lips parted and he cursed and spoke the dirtiest words she’d ever heard, and the way the sweat on his face and body clung to his skin.

 

“Come for me baby girl,” Daryl growled close to her ear. One of his hands snaked around her waist and touched her clit, he pinched the little bundle of nerves and Beth shuddered, her orgasm fast approaching.

 

“Daryl,” she panted, “I’m going to…”

 

Her sentence was left unsaid because in that instance Beth came, she felt herself clenching and unclenching on his prick and faintly heard his curses but she was far too gone, stars exploded behind her eyes and for a split second she forgot how to breathe. By the time her senses came back Daryl had loosened his grip on her hair and now his hands were clenched tightly over her hips. He gave a few thrusts and suddenly he was still and muttering what sounded like a litany of curse words, he pulled out of her and flopped himself on the bed next to her.

 

“Damn girl,” he said, sounding out of breath.

 

On shaky legs she stood from the bed and was about to make her way to the bathroom when Daryl spoke up, “You don’t want to uh?” he asked, patting to the empty space on the bed.

 

Beth looked at him skeptically; she was truly at a loss for words. Was that part of his itinerary? “I didn’t think… I didn’t know you did that.”

 

He shrugged, “I’m tired.”

 

“I’m just going to clean myself up a bit,” she said.

 

That night cradled in Daryl’s arms, his warm breath on her neck, Beth almost broke to pieces. She wondered why it was so difficult to find someone who suited her; she wondered why she had to pay a prostitute to sleep with her in the first place. Jimmy had got on quite well after their break-up and Beth wondered why she couldn’t have done the same thing. With a thousand different thoughts plaguing her mind, that night in Daryl’s arms she had the best sleep she’d had since before her suicide attempt.


End file.
